


shackled

by teddygirl105



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Injuries, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth, Whumptober, shackled, stay with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-13 15:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21157508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddygirl105/pseuds/teddygirl105
Summary: This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go. They weren't supposed to get taken as hostages, shackled by chains around their wrists and necks.





	shackled

**Author's Note:**

> this is heavily based off of [@guessibetter](https://twitter.com/guessibetter) on twitter's art for whumptober [day 9](https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1181782717022834694) and [day 17](https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1184682459088216065), so huge props to them for letting me write a fic based off of their art ♥
> 
> excuse any mistakes bc i said fuck editing this shit i need to post it rn

This was not the situation Sylvain expected to end up in.

Their monthly mission seemed simple enough. They were to pick out a few bandits that were camping nearby the monastery, after hearing reports of kidnappings from nearby villages. The Blue Lions, suited up for battle and eager to help, had arrived with Professor Byleth and a few Knights of Seiros.

At first, the tides were in their favour. The bandits had underestimated the skills of the students, going down in just a few quick blows. Their numbers dwindled down, and Sylvain, being the rambunctious and carefree man he was, ran deeper into their forces to get to the main threat. Felix, wanting to best Sylvain, ran along with him, both of them ignoring the yells from Dimitri to fall back.

It happened so quickly. Out of nowhere, a thick fog covered the area, reminiscent of their encounter with Lord Lonato during the Garland Moon. Sylvain couldn’t see no more than three feet in front of him. Realizing the situation, panic ran through his veins, and he grasped at Felix’s wrist to keep him close. “Don’t stray.” he hissed, eyes alert for any signs of movement.

“I figured that one out.” Felix retorted, on high alert despite his small jest. Backs pressed against each other, they circled on the spot slowly, weapons out and ready to strike. Every little thing made them twitch, the thump of each other’s heartbeats, the steady rise and fall of their chests. The sting of drawn blood as a knife was thrown at his ear.

Wait, what?

Sylvain’s breath hitched in his throat, knuckles tightening around the shaft of his lance before blindly swinging. He could feel the steel cut through fabric and skin as if it were butter, hearing the groan of a bandit resound through the fog.

“I think we’re surrounded.” Felix whispered. Despite his voice keeping steady, he couldn’t help but press himself into Sylvain more in fear. “You’d better have good reflexes.” he muttered, before launching himself into the fog blindly.

“Felix!” Sylvain cried, unable to keep his eyes off of the direction that his childhood friend had ran in. He spotted the flash of metal in the corner of his eyes, barely twisting his body in time to avoid being stabbed in the gut by a dagger. Without hesitation, he swung the shaft of his lance into the bandit’s gut, knocking the breath out of them before piercing them right through the heart.

Gritting his teeth, he quickly turned around and parried a blow, straining to keep his strength. Ducking down, Sylvain brought his lance in an upward arc, making a clean, long cut across the bandit’s torso and finishing the job with a slash to their jugular. Blood sprayed all over his face and clothes, feeling sickeningly warm against his cool skin. Resisting the urge to wipe it away, he continued through the fog, fighting his way to Felix. The fog seemed to be fading, and he presumed that the Professor was taking care of the mage who had casted it.

In the distance, a strangled scream resounded through the air, breaking his focus. Startled, Sylvain cast aside the bandit he was fighting, running towards the source. He’d recognize that voice from anywhere.

“Felix!” he yelled, panic thrumming through his body as he zoned in on his location. The swordsman was crumpled on the ground, his sword laying a few feet from his hand as a mage grinned in success, another spell beginning to start. Desperation took over, and with a grunt, Sylvain threw his lance. He watched as it soared through the sky, piercing through the mage’s chest just as they turned to see what the interference was. The head of his lance landed into the dirt, effectively skewering the mage with the ground.

Stumbling over his feet, Sylvain collapsed to his knees next to Felix, looking over his wounds. Blood was splattered all over him, presumably from those he had killed. He could smell the faint scent of burnt grass, and Sylvain feared that there had been magic involved. Fervently praying to the Goddess, he checked for any marks on Felix’s skin, checking for traces of magic or scars left by a spell.

When he went to lift up the shirt sleeve on Felix’s left arm, Sylvain was met with a myriad of blistering scars, trailing down from his shoulder to his forearm. His veins bulged out of his skin, the scars tainted an ugly shade of purple. It had to be some sort of dark magic.

Anger boiled through Sylvain’s blood, his hands tightly clenching the fabric of Felix’s uniform as he held him close to his chest. How dare they. How dare they hurt him?

“Aw, is the pretty boy sad? Boohoo, look at your poor boyfriend.” A man stepped out from the fog, a large axe resting on his shoulder as he grinned at Sylvain. Judging from his build and the set of crystals around his neck, he was their leader. “You should be glad that he isn’t dead.” Walking towards the duo, the man crouched down, leaning in close. Sylvain could smell the scent of mead in his breath, in addition to smoke and grime.

“I’ll kill you.” he growled, pulling Felix closer. The leader gave out a hearty laugh, nearly falling back on his heels. 

“Oh brat, I’d like to see you try.”

With speed unexpected from such a large man, he lashed out and grabbed Sylvain by the neck, hearing him emit a choked cry as Felix tumbled out of his grasp. “How weak for a Gautier.” the man sneered, watching him struggle to pry the hand off of his throat to no avail.

Sylvain watched as Felix was dragged away, slung over the shoulder of another bandit before disappearing into the fog. He couldn’t hear the faint sounds of metal clashing with metal in the distance anymore, couldn’t focus on who the hell was in front of him. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the fog or his lack of oxygen.

It didn’t take long for him to lose consciousness, falling limp in the bandit leader’s grip. With a sneer, the man tossed him to the ground, letting his henchmen do the work as he walked away.

“Pretty little Gautier and Fraldarius, huh? My my, we’ll be able to get a hefty amount of gold for their heads.”

* * *

Sylvain slowly came to, his head throbbing at his temples and his body sore all over. He couldn’t quite remember what had happened, his memories fuzzy at the edges. They were out fighting bandits, and then… Ah, the fog. So he managed to get himself kidnapped. How lovely.

His arms were uncomfortably twisted behind his back, the feeling of cool metal clasped around his wrists alerting him that they were cuffed together. It was unusually cold, and whatever he was lying on was horribly prickly.

With a groan, he attempted to roll onto his other side, only to be stopped by a harsh tug at his neck. Sylvain’s eyes snapped open, and he was suddenly extremely aware of the cold metal cuff around his neck. Panic ran through his veins, his heart beating wildly in his chest. As his eyes slowly began to adapt to the darkness, the faint outline of a chain made itself present to him, connecting to another cuff around a man’s neck.

Felix.

He almost cried out in relief at the sight of his childhood friend. At least he hadn’t been killed. He looked the same as he did before Sylvain had passed out, and there seemed to be no other visible differences. He assumed that Felix had been cuffed at the wrists as well.

With the knowledge that Felix was safe under his belt, Sylvain began to observe their surroundings. Despite how dark it was, there were still little cracks of light emanating from the walls and ceiling. With the easy deduction that it was hay they were laying on, he figured that they were in some sort of abandoned shed in the vicinity of a house. The bandits must have taken refuge nearby the village they had pillaged.

A shaky breath escaped his mouth, his body shaking. Sothis damn it, he was scared. Sure, there were many times when Miklan had tried to push him down a well or kill Sylvain in general, but this felt different. There was no reassurance that he’d be saved. This was unknown territory with unknown people. It wasn’t going to be as simple as Felix running around his house and finding him in a few minutes. This could take days.

Wriggling his body, Sylvain moved himself closer to the raven-haired man, protectively resting his chin atop of Felix’s head. He had to protect him. He had already been injured outside of Sylvain’s view, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

He didn’t know how long he was awake for, his eyes boring into the darkness of the shed. The little light that peeked through the boards slowly began to turn orange, before completely going dark. The hay did nothing to warm them from the cool winds of the night, and Felix unconsciously huddled closer to Sylvain, a shiver going down his spine. Despite how tired his body was, his eyelids dangerously beginning to close, Sylvain kept himself awake.

Suddenly, the door to the shed creaked open, allowing the light from a campfire to flood in. He squinted, his gaze looking at the bandit that approached them with fear and fire. He said nothing, watching as they began to reach towards Felix.

“Don’t touch him.” he growled, his voice coming out hoarse and scratchy. The bandit jolted, having not noticed that Sylvain had woken.

“Oh, so you’re awake already? And here I thought the boss had killed you on accident.” the bandit spoke, his face unchanging as Sylvain’s eyes narrowed in anger. Fumbling with their back pocket, the bandit took out a key, resting on his knees as he hovered over Felix to unlock him from the metal around his neck.

“I said don’t touch him!” Sylvain roared, abruptly kicking the bandit as hard as he could. Thank Sothis they forgot to cuff their ankles. With a yelp, they fell back onto their back, rubbing their chest.

Footsteps hurried over to their location, another figure shadowing over them. “What’s going on here?” a gruff voice spoke, and Sylvain recognized the new arrival as the bandit leader. The two of them made eye contact, the former’s teeth bared. “Ah, is the Gautier causing you trouble?” An amused smile on his face, the leader stepped towards them, crouching down to his eye level. “You’re protective. A good trait, but that will get you killed one day.” He changed his gaze to Felix, observing him fervently. “Sorry to say it Gautier, but Mr. Fraldarius here is worth a lot more. He is to be the King’s advisor, no? ‘Fraid that means that the money on his head is just a little more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare touch him.” Sylvain hissed. “Just take me instead. I don’t care what you do to me. Just don’t touch him.”

The leader stared at Sylvain, his head tilted slightly as he contemplated his offer. “Mm, sounds tempting. I do love such a daring hero.” he cooed. “But at the same time, there’s nothing better than watching said hero’s face fall in defeat.” Snatching the key from his underling, the leader made quick work of the cuff around Felix’s neck, hauling him over his shoulder.

“No, please!” Sylvain begged, writhing in desperation. “Please don’t hurt him, I beg you! I’ll do anything! Take me, please! Anything but him!” he screamed. With a thump, he tumbled off the pile of hay, falling to his side on the dirt.

The bandit leader slowly turned, staring at Sylvain with a glimmer in his eyes. “Bring him too.” he muttered at his underling, before walking away. Sylvain watched as the bandit approached him, grasping the chain of the cuff around his neck harshly, tugging him up.

“Walk.” he ordered, keeping hold of Sylvain as they made their way to the campfire. As they approached, Felix was already thrown on the ground, still unconscious. Sylvain followed suit with a shove to his back, collapsing on the ground so they were back to back. If he had reached out with his fingers, then he’d be able to graze Felix’s hands. Just barely.

“So, Mr. Gautier. If you’re so willing to take the blows, then I’d like you to ask a few questions, if possible.” the bandit leader spoke, giving him a little kick in the gut. “You are from Garreg Mach after all, so surely there are some lovely little secrets that you’d love to tell me.”

Sylvain sneered, winded from the blow. “Depends… on what you want.” he wheezed. “Whether it be treasures or money, I’m afraid I can’t answer. The monastery hides all their gems and what not somewhere that we students don’t know.”

Another kick to his gut.

“I know that there’s at least some sort of treasure there, boy. Heroes’ Relics.” the leader snarled, slowly beginning to get fed up.

He didn’t say a single word, his chest tight from the blow and unable to breathe. Another kick, this time aimed at his ribs. With a cough, his back collided against Felix’s, their hands practically on top of each other. It took him a few moments to get his voice back.

“...If you want it so badly, then you’re gonna have to fight some pretty strong people. You know, Thunder Catherine, the Ashen Demon… doubt you’d last long.” With a shine in his eyes, Sylvain painfully smiled. He had to waste time in order to think of a plan.

“Well, you ain’t wrong, but there’s a much easier way to get my hands on a relic.” He raised his eyebrows, brow suddenly furrowing as he smelt the tinge of magic in the air. The source was close by, metallic and bitter. No one else seemed to notice.

“If you’re wondering, Mr. Gautier, the plan is to go to your families with your life on the line, and have them give their Heroes’ Relic to us in exchange for you. And if they don’t agree, well, then that’s just sad.” the leader continued, seeming very content about sharing his entire plan.

During his entire little monologue, Sylvain heard a faint crack of metal, the cuffs locked tightly around his wrists falling into pieces. Startled, he almost yelled when cold hands grabbed his tightly. Felix. He was awake.

Nimble fingers grasped his wrist, keeping his hand steady. Two taps on his palm and a stroke upward towards his wrist. A circle.

_ Get up. Run. _

As Sylvain slowly sat up, he answered back. A simple question mark drawn on his hand.

_ Why? _

He felt the outline of a star traced onto his skin.

_ Magic. _

Unable to hide the smile on his face, Sylvain pretended his wrists were still cuffed together as he sat up, beginning to speak. “Well well, what a solid plan you have there. But, you do know that noble families aren’t that idiotic to give away relics in exchange for their sons?” he taunted, smelling magic in the air once more, heavier than it was earlier. “They have plans, you know. Plans that no one else thinks of.”

Planting his hands on the ground, Sylvain slid himself behind Felix, scrambling to his feet and beginning to run away towards the forest. Felix, having abruptly sat up from his fake sleep, sent a huge blast of magic right towards the bandit leader. An explosion erupted, smoke and dust clouds covering the landscape. With tired legs, Felix used the opportunity to get up and run, quickly finding Sylvain amidst the chaos.

“When the hell did you wake up?” the Gautier asked, having found a random broadsword on the ground, holding it awkwardly in his hands. A roar eminated from behind him, and he quickly turned to parry an axe, struggling to keep his strength.

Summoning more magic into his hands, Felix casted Thunder, aiming right for the bandit’s stomach and watched as Sylvain pushed back just in time to avoid being shocked too. Writhing in agony, the man fell to the ground still.

“When that bitch threw me on the ground.” he growled, the smell of magic thick on his hair and tingling on his skin. His arm still hurt horribly from the dark magic he was hit by a few hours prior. It felt like there was lava in his veins, coursing through his arm and pulsing with hot flashes every second. He couldn’t fight, not in this state.

“How many more spells do you think you can manage?” Sylvain asked, taking hold of Felix’s hand, squeezing it tightly for reassurance.

“Two at most.” he answered, squeezing back. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I hate this place with every cell of my body.” Letting go of each other’s hands, the two of them began to run, eyes scouting every possible corner for assailants. Despite the large amount of chaos and noise Felix had created, the smoke and darkness allowed them to slip away from the scene with relative ease. If they managed to stick to the shadows, he was sure that they’d make it out.

Shouting and yelling resounded all throughout the camp as the bandits took up their weapons, spreading out to see where their hostages had went. Sylvain was huddled behind a barrel, Felix doing the same at a crate a few feet away.

“Hey! There they-” The bandit’s sentence was cut off by a gurgled cry, the bandit falling to the ground dead. Felix’s instincts had kicked in as soon as he saw them, casting a spell to their chest. There went any hope of sneaking out unnoticed.

Their gazes met, both of them frantically thinking of a plan. Sylvain gestured to Felix, making an X with his arms.

_ Don’t move. _

In response, Felix pointed at Sylvain.

_ What about you? _

A smile grew on his face, and he cheekily pointed at the bandits, before pointing at Felix and drawing a circle in the air.

_ I’ll go distract. You run. _

As soon as Felix had seen his message, he violently shook his head, gesturing “no” as many times as he could. Sylvain merely smiled and waved, before running out from his hiding spot and into the fray.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier, what the fuck!” Felix hissed. He pushed himself off the ground, only to buckle against his left arm and fall back down. It was then that he realized that his entire arm was numb. He couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t tell the roughness of grass and dirt below him, the sharp corners of the crate as he tried to pull himself back up. Felix didn’t even know how hard he was gripping it.

After much struggle, he finally managed to pull himself up, heading straight towards Sylvain. Said man wasn’t doing the best, being severely outnumbered and overwhelmed. The broadsword he had found earlier was thrown on the ground and replaced with an axe, to which he swung with gritted teeth.

Felix ran towards it, grabbing the hilt tight in his hands before bringing it down on one of the unsuspecting bandits. Having noticed his presence, a few of them turned their attention towards him. It was a difficult task, fighting with one arm limp against his side. He didn’t have enough strength to parry blows properly nor to make fatal blows in one try, the magic he used earlier draining his strength. He was lucky that his skill reigned higher than the bandits, Felix’s quick thinking and reflexes allowing him to gain the upper hand and kill those around him.

Sylvain, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky. His ribs were bruised and possibly cracked from earlier, making it hard for him to catch his breath without pain stabbing him in the chest. He’d falter and create an opening, leaving the opportunity for a blade to nick him in the side. It didn’t take long until a bandit had ripped the axe out of his hands, forcing him to brawl it out instead. Sylvain never practiced brawling in his entire life.

Needless to say, things didn’t go so well for the both of them.

Felix, about to rush over to Sylvain in order to help him out, was harshly stopped by a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him backwards. A yelp escaped his lips, hands quickly flying up to his scalp in order to pry at the hand that was holding him back.

“No!” he cried, writhing around desperately as he watched Sylvain get beaten up. Rage filled his body, and without hesitation, Felix turned to swing his sword at the bandit’s arm, pushing it in as deep as it could go. Howling in pain, they let go of him, a sword now stuck their arm and hitting bone.

Stumbling over his feet, Felix pushed through the circle of bandits around Sylvain, falling to his knees next to him. Hands trembling, he carefully scooped the man into his arms, cradling him close to his chest.

“Hey… Stay with me, okay?” Felix whispered, his voice cracking as his hair gently tickled Sylvain’s face, having come undone from the battle.

Sylvain’s eyes couldn’t focus on anything, blankly staring into nothingness as he struggled to stay conscious. Everything felt so muffled, like his brain had been squeezed dry and his ears stuffed with cotton. His whole body hurt, and all he could feel was the warmth of Felix’s body and the beat of his heart. Even through all the fighting, Sylvain could still smell faint traces of shampoo in his hair.

“Damn, kids these days really are idiots, aren’t they?” a voice chimed from the crowd, and out came the bandit leader. “You two really thought you could get away, huh?” he sneered, approaching the two of them with slow steps.

Felix merely grit his teeth, keeping his gaze on the leader menacingly. He still had one more spell left in him.

Just as the bandit leader began to raise his axe, the intent to kill running through his veins, Felix lifted his left arm, willing magic to flow out. A loud, resounding crack came from the leader’s axe, having hit a magical barrier that surrounded the two students. Thoroughly surprised, the leader smirked.

“Oh? I’ve never seen this spell before. I doubt this will last long, though.” he spoke, before continuing to beat down on it.

Felix struggled to fight against it, his arm burning with pain as he continued to keep the barrier up for as long as he could. Casting one last spell was one thing he could do, but to keep it up was completely out of his range. Each second that passed only caused it to begin to waver, getting weaker and weaker with each strike from the axe.

Just as Felix felt the barrier give out and his magic completely deplete, the axe slowly nearing his face, a whip-like blade extended from the forest. It lashed out onto the leader’s arm, effectively knocking the axe out of his hands. Howling in pain, he turned to see who it was, clearly angry about the situation.

“Don’t touch my students.”

Felix recognized the voice immediately, sagging in relief. They had finally come.

From the forest came the Blue Lions, with a small collection of Jeralt’s mercenaries and the Knights of Seiros. At the sight of the army, many of the bandits began to flee in fear of their lives.

“Don’t let a single one get away!” Byleth yelled, rushing forwards to deal with the leader. “Mercedes, tend to Felix and Sylvain immediately!”

“Yes, Professor!”

Felix watched as she approached the two of them, uttering words that he couldn’t comprehend. He watched as she waved Heal over them over and over again, trying to identify the damage done. Felix was too exhausted to answer her questions, all of the adrenaline in his body having dissipated.

After making sure that any immediate concerns were healed, Mercedes took both of the boys in her arms, holding them tight. “I’m so glad that you two are okay.” she softly spoke, seeming to tremble slightly. “We’ll tend to your wounds more carefully back in the monastery. You’ll be alright.” Her hands glowed with faith magic, continuing to ease their pain at all times.

“Thank you…” Felix whispered, before finally letting himself succumb to his fatigue.

* * *

When Sylvain came to, the familiar scent of sterilizer and medicine flooded his senses. There were bandages wrapped around multiple parts of his body, tight and restricting. His mind felt so foggy, a heavy weight pushing on all sides of his brain.

“Awake, are we?”

Slowly opening his eyes, he squinted at the light, catching the familiar face of Manuela hovering over him. “Take it easy. You were in quite bad shape, y’know?” she commented, busy with a few herbs and essences at her lap.

“How’s… Felix?” Sylvain managed to croak out, wincing at how dry and hoarse his voice was. Manuela turned to the bedside table, pouring him a glass of water.

“Just got the clear to leave the infirmary, though he’s still on strict resting orders.” she answered, carefully helping him to sit up before placing the glass to his lips, tipping it back gently. “The dark magic was a hassle to deal with, but we’ve successfully gotten rid of it. There wasn’t as much damage anywhere else.”

Lowering him back onto the bed, Manuela adjusted the covers, setting the glass back on the bedside table. “You on the other hand, Mr. Gautier, had cracked ribs, cuts and bruises everywhere, and a sprained ankle and wrist. How the hell you kept on fighting is beyond me.”

“I had to protect Felix. It’s as simple as that.” he answered. Manuela scoffed, though the smile on her lips was one of warmth and endearment.

“Oh, young love. I wish I were back in those days.” she commented to herself, going back to work as she let Sylvain fall asleep once more.

The next few weeks were filled with bed rest and recuperation. As per Manuela’s request, Sylvain stayed in the infirmary until his ribs had healed nicely, before moving back to his own room. He still had to visit for check ups until all of his other injuries were healed, and was restricted from doing any training until so. All of the Blue Lions welcomed him back to the class warmly, and he was finally able to give proper thanks to Mercedes and Byleth.

“Thank you for the help, Professor.” Sylvain spoke. He had just gotten the okay to leave the infirmary, and Byleth had invited him to tea immediately afterwards. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come.”

“You would have died, for one.” they answered bluntly, taking a sip of their cup of bergamot tea. “What were you thinking, running into that fog?”

Sylvain sheepishly laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You got me there, Teach. I guess I was a little careless.” he admitted, preparing for a long lecture about sticking to the battle plan and how to not be an idiot.

“Do you know how worried I was?” 

He blinked at Byleth, unable to answer the unexpected question.

“Who knows what would have happened if you two were there for more than a day? You and Felix could have suffered severe internal and external injuries, not to mention psychological damage. You’re damn lucky that those bandits were horrible at hiding their trail. The smell of Warp was so thick in the air.” they explained. Despite their stoic face, Sylvain could see the worry in their eyes. “It took us a bit to find where you two had ended up, and we still had to think of a plan so that we wouldn’t die rushing in. I had Ingrid send a message to some of the troops nearby for backup. I swear, if it weren’t for Dedue, Dimitri would have gone on a rampage as soon as we arrived at your location.”

Sylvain fiddled with his hands, looking down in shame. “Sorry.” he muttered, “I really am.”

Byleth sighed, letting the corners of their lips curl upwards ever so slightly, their gaze warm. “At least you two are safe now. Speaking of which, have you even seen Felix since?” they asked, and Sylvain shook his head.

“He was discharged before I had even woken up. He didn’t come with the others to visit either. I’m sure he had his reasons.” he explained, albeit a bit sad thinking back on it.

“You’ll most likely find Felix in the training grounds. Even with the strict instructions from Manuela, he took to training immediately.” Byleth took a bite of one of the sugar cookies that were laid out in front of them, courtesy of Mercedes. “He seemed… disappointed in himself. I have my guesses on why, but I didn’t pry.”

Ah. Sylvain knew why he never visited now.

“I have my guesses as well.” he simply answered, taking a sip of his tea. His conversation with Byleth continued rather quickly. The latter was explaining what lessons he had missed and other random things. Eventually, they had made the excuse of having papers to grade, ending their little tea party earlier than usual. It was as if they had seen how jittery and anxious Sylvain was.

Giving his thanks to the professor, he quickly ran off from the pavilion, headed straight for the training grounds. At the sound of the door opening, Felix turned around immediately, the training sword in his hands slipping out of his grip. In a rush, he ran towards Sylvain, engulfing him in a tight hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sylvain whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

Felix let out a deep breath, burying his face into his shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” he answered. “You didn’t have to sacrifice so much for me.” His fingers grasped onto Sylvain’s shirt tightly, scared to let go.

“I wouldn’t dare let anything happen to you.” he spoke, taking in Felix’s scent and allowing himself to feel exposed. This was his home. This was where he belonged. He wanted to be in no place other than here.

“I was so scared.” Felix whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking. “I thought you had died before the professor came. You didn’t respond to anything, and Mercedes had to tend to you at all times. Your heartbeat was so weak.” he explained.

“I thought I was going to lose you.”

As soon as those words left Felix’s mouth, Sylvain froze up, biting his lip. Slowly pulling away from their embrace, he cupped Felix’s face in his hands, gently stroking his thumb against his cheek.

“Don’t you dare think of that ever again.” he softly scolded. “I’m not going to die. Not anytime soon. And don’t you ever think that it’s your fault. I am wholly responsible for my own mistakes and actions.”

“Then why would you keep on fighting?” Felix begged. “You keep on reminding me of Glenn, fighting till the end and never thinking of yourself and always protecting others because of your fucking morals! I’m so fucking scared that you’ll die just like him!” Tears poured down his face, distress and panic running through his veins as Felix grabbed the front of Sylvain’s shirt. “Every single damn time we go on a mission, I’m always scared that you’ll end up getting yourself killed by saving someone else. Can’t you think of yourself for once?”

The anger in Felix’s eyes diminished, the adrenaline of his emotions fading from his body as he slumped into Sylvain’s chest. “I’m so scared that you’ll die right in front of me.” he whispered.

Sylvain didn’t answer, his arms wrapping themselves around Felix once more. He felt so fragile in his arms, as if he were a porcelain doll that someone precariously placed atop a shelf. Balancing delicately along the edge, one accidental touch being able to send it shattering to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Sylvain muttered, his nose buried in Felix’s hair. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, knowing that he’d end up making promises he couldn’t keep. For a few moments, they were silent. The only comfort they had were the gentle thump of each other’s hearts and the soft inhale and exhale of their breath. It was as if the air around them had stilled, time coming to a halt.

And then without warning, Sylvain began to sing.

_ “Come now dear warrior, sword by your side. Lay down your head and rest for awhile…” _

Felix breath hitched in his throat, words so familiar to his mind that it pained him, yet soothed him so well. It was a lullaby his mother would sing so often, and as did Glenn whenever Felix had clung onto him crying before he’d leave for his missions.

_ “Let sweet songs of nurture and care ease your mind. Let your tears flow away, and close your eyes, my child.” _

He continued to hum, gently swaying back and forth with Felix still in his arms. He felt so belittled, as if he were degraded into a mere kid once more. At the same time, Felix couldn’t help but remember Glenn’s warm embrace, his rough hands wiping the tears off of his baby brother’s cheeks as he sang the same song to him gently.

Sylvain let his voice die out, leaving them in silence once more. “I’m not going to become Glenn.” he whispered. “Not now, not ever. Besides, there has to be someone to sing, and it sure as hell isn’t going to be your father. His singing voice is terrible.”

A chuckle escaped Felix’s lips. “You’re not wrong.” he answered, setting his chin on the crook of Sylvain’s shoulder. “You’ll be the only one.”

“Really?”

A smile formed on his face, as Felix closed his eyes in content.

_ “I’m the best singer, aren’t I?” Glenn smiled, picking up Felix in his arms. _

_ “Of course you are!” he exclaimed, making his big brother laugh heartily, toothy grins on both of their faces. _

_ “I’ll sing this song to you all the time, and I’ll be the only one to do so.” Glenn declared. _

_ “Promise?” _

_ “Promise.” _

Another tear slid down his face.

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> so fun fact: the felix's-arm-being-all-numb is actually a sign of a brain tumor?? I randomly added it to the fic bc I had a sub for law class and he was telling us about how like a year ago he constantly had like numbness in his left arm that would last for 1-5 min, and eventually when he finally got it checked out turns out he had a tumor in his brain
> 
> but like!! don't worry felix doesn't have a brain tumor, i just thought it would fit well as a side effect to being hit with dark magic right in the arm.
> 
> also like the whole last part of the fic.... was real hard to write.... so it might have sounded a bit awkward m sorry
> 
> and yes the glenn part at the end broke my heart as i wrote it
> 
> [ twitter](https://twitter.com/teddygirl105)   
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